that fight.

Both Lightfoot and the big stranger were handsome. Yes, indeed,
they were very handsome. Lightfoot was just a little bit the
bigger and it seemed to her just a little bit the handsomer.
She almost wanted him to win. Then, when she saw how bravely the
big stranger was fighting and how well he was holding his own, even
though he was a little smaller than Lightfoot, she almost hoped
he would win.

That great fight lasted a long time. To pretty Miss Daintyfoot
it seemed that it never would end. But after a while Lightfoot's
greater size and strength began to tell. Little by little the big
stranger was forced back towards the edge of the open place.
Now he would be thrown to his knees when Lightfoot wasn't.
As Lightfoot saw this, he seemed to gain new strength. At last
he caught the stranger in such a way that he threw him over.
While the stranger struggled to get to his feet again, Lightfoot's
sharp antlers made long tears in his gray coat. The stranger was
beaten and he knew it. The instant he succeeded in getting to his
feet he turned tail and plunged for the shelter of the Green
Forest. With a snort of triumph, Lightfoot plunged after him.

But now that he was beaten, fear took possession of the
stranger. All desire to fight left him. His one thought was to
get away, and fear gave him speed. Straight back towards the
Great Mountain from which he had come the stranger headed.
Lightfoot followed only a short distance. He knew that
that stranger was going for good and would not come back.
Then Lightfoot turned back to the open place where they had